


A different flavour of fear

by chaos_monkey



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e04 Doppelganger, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Selfcest, psychological fuckery, unwanted arousal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey
Summary: The crystal entity uses a different approach to get under John Sheppard's skin.
Relationships: John Sheppard/John Sheppard, Rodney McKay & John Sheppard
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	A different flavour of fear

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty dark folks, please heed the tags
> 
> (equal parts credit and blame go to dd for encouraging me on this one, ta)

John slammed himself to the floor in front of the stargate— and then hesitated, briefly confused. 

Right. This was a dream, and that was his evil crystal entity doppelganger on the ground, staring up at him with a confident sneer. An entity that had been ripping through Atlantis and causing pain and suffering and death in the people he cared about, _while wearing his goddamn face._

The thing reacted before John could figure out what the fuck he was supposed to _do_ about that, exactly, and in the blink of an eye it had rolled them over and slammed him hard to the floor on _his_ back. John growled in fury, surging upwards to buck the thing off him— but it was too damn strong, ankles hooking over his legs and keeping them pinned, hands doing the same to his wrists with a bruisingly tight grip. He was left helplessly spread-eagled under the twisted version of himself, his struggles doing nothing but bringing a creepy grin of sick delight to the thing’s lips. 

It was unsettling as _fuck,_ seeing that expression of twisted glee on… _his_ face, staring at him from just a few inches away, at most. John went still, ignoring the cold twist of fear in his gut and refusing to give the bastard the satisfaction of watching him squirm. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” he rasped, still slightly breathless from the impact. 

“Oh, yes you are,” not-him said in _his_ voice, lip curling and its breath hot in the tiny space between them. “I’m the one thing you _are_ afraid of. You’re _terrified_ of becoming the very thing you fight,” it continued, that dark smirk still on its face. Its voice was steady despite the fact that it was breathing hard, John’s own body shifting against him from above. “The _bad_ guy. _Me._ ” 

“I am _not_ you,” John snapped, trying to wrench his hands free. His evil self didn’t budge in the slightest. 

“You are, _John._ And you _know_ it. I’m just the part of you that you like to pretend isn’t there, the version of you who takes what you want, who _does_ what you want. And that’s the worst part for you, isn’t it?” John’s breath caught in sudden shock when the thing pressed even closer on top of him, hips rolling in an inescapably _sensual_ motion against him. “You’re afraid of yourself, in so many ways. Afraid you’ll slip up and everyone will know who you _really_ are. Just another fucking _monster._ ” 

“ _Go to hell,_ ” John snarled, twisting his hips in a sharp jerk, trying get a leg free; something, _anything—_ but the thing wearing his body just moved with him, easily, in a lazily fluid movement, still watching him intently with its lips parted in that dark, crooked smirk. 

“Oh… now _that’s_ interesting,” not-John purred. It surged closer still, John’s own body keeping him pinned to the floor as his doppelganger leaned in and drew in a sharp breath through its nose— _sniffing_ at his neck, John realized a split second later. It took him a moment to figure out what the entity meant by ‘interesting’, but when he did— his blood went cold, the horrified chill rippling through him followed immediately by a rolling, hot flush of humiliation. 

He was _hard,_ his dick stiffening rapidly in his pants with his evil self grinding down against him. 

Fucking _dreams._

“It’s amazing, really,” the thing commented, tongue running over its teeth in an open-mouthed grin. The tone was almost conversational, if you ignored the way its voice— his voice— was _dripping_ with barely leashed excitement. “I learn something new with every single mind I taste. Your species has some _very_ interesting and… intense… flavours of fear.” 

It pinned both of John’s wrists above his head with one hand, the other fisting roughly in his hair to yank his head back— and then it _licked_ him, hot wet tongue running up the hollow of his throat from his collarbone to his jaw, rasping against stubble. John gritted his teeth against the low groan welling up inexorably in his throat as the thing pulled back, still rocking on top of him. It was panting slightly, those intense eyes boring into his, flicking down to his mouth and back up again. 

Something hot and hard and unmistakable was pressing against him as well, now; the feeling of his own stiff cock rutting into his crotch sending even more tendrils of unwanted desire wending through his core, the flickers of arousal intensifying into hot flushes of _lust_ with every lazy thrust of his dark-self’s hips against him. The fingers in his hair tightened and _yanked,_ and that time a loud groan did escape John’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut and back arching into it, his body responding despite himself. He heard his other self chuckle, a darkly pleased sound, still rubbing against his front with those sinuously undulating thrusts. The movement, combined with his own squirming, had rucked John’s shirt halfway up his back and bared his skin to the cold floor, the touch sending shivers of need tingling over his flesh. He couldn’t fight it; couldn’t quite remember _why_ he was trying to fight it, for that matter, not when it felt so hopeless and so… _good._

“That’s it,” his other self breathed, gazing down at him, trapping John’s gaze with its own. “Give in. Everyone knows anyway… you can’t hide it from anyone. Especially not from _me._ ” 

John whimpered, his hips shifting as his he tried futilely to get purchase on the floor with his heels, not sure whether he was doing it to try and buck his dark self off of him— or to get better leverage to grind up against himself, his cock throbbing and desperate for more than just the dry friction of his clothes. His own face grinned down at him, tongue slipping out to wet its lips— and then his other self’s mouth was on his, lips soft and warm, teeth sharp, tongue sliding into his mouth and moving slick and hot and _demanding_ against his own. 

“Yeah, I know _exactly_ what you want,” other John growled against his lips. Reality _shifted_ as the entity bent the dream to its will, and it was abruptly between his legs instead of straddling them, hand sliding down John’s side to squeeze his ass and tug his leg up by the thigh. 

John shuddered and tried to shake his head, panting hard and nearly biting his own tongue as he clamped down on the pleas of _yes fuck yes_ trying to spill from his kiss-bitten lips. His evil self grinned triumphantly, as though it had heard him anyway, and John realized with a distant, sinking feeling— 

It probably had. 

His awareness blurred into a riot of pure sensation after that; the feel of his own hands on his bare skin— his clothes were there one moment and gone the next— the taste of his own mouth, hot on his— he couldn’t stop his hips from moving, needy, desperate— the sight of his own face gazing down at him with that heated, twisted look of sheer delight, and then thick blunt heat was _pressing- sliding- driving_ into him, filling him with one hard thrust. 

John moaned, loud and wordless, helpless against the pleasure of it; his cock straining and twitching and his breath ragged in his bare, heaving chest. 

“You’re so fucking ready for it, aren’t you?” the thing with his face panted above him, pulling back and slamming into him, over and over; each thrust ripping a gasped, hoarse cry from his throat. “You’re so _fucking_ wet and easy—” 

It kept talking, growling out things John realized were vaguely familiar; phrases from half-remembered guilty fantasies about being used, fucked, _taken,_ just like this. And it felt just as good as he’d always been afraid it would. 

The roiling heat gathering in his core burned hotter as he hammered into himself again and again, the tension deep in his gut twisting tighter and tighter and _tighter_ until— 

John came with a broken howl that was half a sob, unable to close his eyes against the intent expression of ecstasy on his own face above him. The thing kept watching him eagerly as he spilled out, shaking uncontrollably while the waves of mingled bliss and relief and shame crashed through him, scouring everything else away. 

* * *

“His heart rate is dangerously high.” 

“Can you wake him up?” 

“I could try, but in his physical state, that could make things worse.” 

“Yes, and the entity would still be in him.” 

Still lying on what had almost been his deathbed, Rodney could barely hear the others talking, the sound distorted by the adrenaline-fueled pounding of his heart roaring loudly in his ears. 

“Hook me up to him again.” 

His own voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else too, but he resolutely lay back down to be sent back into the nightmare. 

* * *

To Rodney’s surprise, he found himself— not out on the ocean again, not in the belly of that horrible whale— but in the gateroom of Atlantis. The gate was active, but the place was deserted save for himself and… 

Rodney crept carefully forward down the steps, moving as quietly as he could. The two Sheppards were on the floor in front of the gate and didn’t seem to have heard him. He didn’t know who was who yet, but one Sheppard had the other pinned under him, _naked,_ and the glow of the event horizon was casting weirdly rippling shadows, almost making it look like… like they were… 

Realization dawned and Rodney’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in pure shock just as the one on the bottom shuddered, head thrown back, a strangled cry erupting from his throat. The sound was _wild,_ almost bestial, like nothing Rodney had ever heard from his friend before, and he couldn’t honestly have said whether it was a cry of pleasure or pain. 

But the now-familiar look of sick delight on the other Sheppard’s face as it watched was more than enough to tell Rodney who the _real_ one was. Striding forward, he grabbed the thing by the back of its shirt and yanked it off Sheppard with both hands, another surge of adrenaline spiking through his veins. The doppelganger _snarled_ as Rodney dragged it towards the active gate, twisting and wriggling unsettlingly in his grip and trying to get its feet under itself. 

Rodney gritted his teeth and held on. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m not dead,” he spat, grunting with effort— and almost before he finished speaking, brilliant white bolts of electricity blasted down from nowhere, raising the hairs on his arms and sending the evil Sheppard staggering with a howl. While it was still off-balance, little leftover sizzles of electricity coursing up and down its form, Rodney seized hold of its shirt again and spun with a shout, _hauling_ as hard as he could. 

The doppelganger tumbled through the stargate, and with a ripple of blue light… it was gone. 

Rodney stood there, panting, waiting nervously; but the entity didn’t reappear. It must have worked, the thing was trapped in its crystal again back in the real world. He just hoped he hadn’t been too late— 

A low, pained groan from behind Rodney sent an overwhelming wave of giddy relief rippling through him. He spun around to see the real Sheppard pushing himself up into a sitting position, blinking around in confusion. 

_Alive._

“What… what the _hell_ just happened?” 


End file.
